If we put things together, the letter of Jefferson certainly meant first that the time had come to make some "arrangements" to thwart the schemes of the Federalists; second, that a tie was almost certain, and finally that it was up to Burr to declare that he was not running for the presidency.

This conclusion is all the more probable because three days later, writing to John Breckenridge, Jefferson did not mention again Georgia and Tennessee, but declared that "we are brought into a dilemma by the probable equality of the two Republican candidates." Then he added: "The Federalists in Congress mean to take advantage of this, and either to prevent an election altogether, or reverse what has been understood to have been the wishes of the people, as to the President and Vice-President; wishes which the Constitution did not permit them specially to designate."[407] Nothing could be clearer; it was to some extent the situation of 1796, but reversed as to the candidates, and Jefferson expected that Burr would do the right thing by him.

This, however, was not so obvious to Burr himself. The letter he sent in reply to Jefferson must have been most disappointing in this respect. The colonel side-stepped the issue, refused to come out frankly and did not write a single line that could be constructed as an acceptance of Jefferson's point of view. On December 31, Jefferson wrote to Tench Coxe to express his opinion that an agreement between the two higher candidates was their only hope "to prevent the dissolution of the Government and a danger of anarchy, by an operation, bungling indeed and imperfect, but better than letting the Legislature take the nomination of the Executive entirely from the people."[408]

This could have been construed as a hint to Burr to give up his unavowed hopes of becoming President. But Burr, who was in New York, could not easily be communicated with and kept his sphinxlike silence. January passed without Jefferson's finding any necessity of writing any political letters. With Hugh Williamson he discussed the range of temperature in Louisiana and whether the turkey was a native bird:[409] with William Dunbar the temperature, Indian vocabularies and the origin of the rainbow.

In February, however, he again wrote to Burr. He had been informed that certain individuals were attempting "to sow tares between us that might divide us and our friends." He assured Burr that he had never written anything that could be regarded as injurious by his running mate; the only time that he had discussed his conduct was in a letter to Breckenridge written on December 18, in which he had expressed the conviction that the wishes of the people were that he and not Burr be President. That was a pure statement of fact at which no man could take offense. This time, Burr apparently did not answer at all, and while the House was preparing for the balloting, Jefferson discussed with Caspar Wistar the bones found in the State of New York, "the vertebra, part of the jaw, with two grinders, the tusks, which some have called the horns, the sternum, the scapula, the tibia and fibula, the tarsus and metatarsus, and even the phalanges and innominata."[410]

On the morning of the election and before going to the Capitol he wrote to Tench Coxe: "Which of the two will be elected, and whether either, I deem perfectly problematical: and my mind has long been equally made up for either of the three events." This was on a Wednesday. After the result of the election had been officially announced, the House retired to proceed to the election of the President. Ballots were taken, Jefferson receiving eight States, Burr six, nine being necessary to a choice. The House stayed in continuous session till eight o'clock the next morning, taking twenty-seven ballots without any change in the results; members of the House dozing between ballots, snatching a bit of sleep whenever they could, all of them admiring the fortitude of Joseph N. Nicholson who, although sick in bed, had been brought to the House and rested in a committee room, voting at each ballot. The House adjourned until eleven o'clock on Friday and then took two successive ballots without being able to break the deadlock. On Saturday three ballots were taken without any change in the alignment, and they adjourned until Monday. In the meantime passions were raging. The Federalists had been told in no equivocal terms that, should they attempt to have the Government devolve to some member of the present administration, "the day such an act would pass, the Middle States would arm" and that "no such usurpation would be tolerated even for a single day."

On the other hand, Jefferson had been approached by the more sensible heads of the Federalists, and apparently by Gouverneur Morris, who stopped him as he was coming out from the Senate Chamber, and had offered to influence one member of Vermont, provided he would declare: "1. that he would not turn all the Federalists out of office; 2. that he would not reduce the navy; and 3. would not wipe off the public debt." To which Jefferson answered that he would not become President by capitulation and would not make any declaration. Then he went to see Adams, who seemed ready to approve of the choice of Jefferson as President and who told him that he could have himself elected by subscribing to conditions analogous to those indicated by Morris. Finally he was visited in his room by Dwight Foster, senator from Massachusetts, who also reiterated the same offer. These are, undoubtedly, some of the maneuvers he mentioned on Sunday, the day of rest, in a letter he wrote to Monroe: "Many attempts have been made to obtain terms and promises from me, I have declared to them unequivocally, that I would not receive the government on capitulation, that I would not go into it with my hands tied."[411]

On Sunday and Monday parleyings went on, caucuses were held, and no change was yet apparent. But on Tuesday morning an agreement was reached. It was described by Jefferson himself as follows:

"Morris of Vermont withdrew, which made Lyon's vote that of his State. The Maryland Federalists put in four blanks, which made the positive ticket of their colleagues the vote of the State. South Carolina and Delaware put in six blanks, so there were ten states for one candidate, four for another, and two blanks." And the speaker of the House, Theodore Sedgwick, one of Jefferson's bitterest enemies, was forced to announce his election.

The letter he wrote to Monroe the same day is not a pæan of triumph. The long-disputed victory, the irreducibility of a large portion of the Federalists, made him fearful lest the fight would soon renew. Furthermore, Adams had at once started making new appointments, naturally without consulting his successor; Bayard was nominated plenipotentiary to the French Republic, "Theophilus Parsons, Attorney General of the United States in the room of C. Lee, who, with Keith Taylor cum multis aliis are appointed judges under the new system. H. G. Otis is nominated a District Attorney."[412]

On his side, Jefferson wrote at once to Henry Dearborn to offer him the Secretaryship of War in his Cabinet and courteously communicated with Dexter, Secretary of the Treasury, and Stoddart, Secretary of the Navy, to thank them for their offer to conduct the affairs of their departments pending the arrival of their successors. To a certain Major William Jackson whom he did not know and who had written him to express the fear that he would discriminate against commerce, he answered that he "might appeal to evidences of his attention to the commerce and navigation of our country in different stations connected with them."

This was an evident allusion to his mission to France and to the activity he had displayed in defending the commercial interests of the United States. He resented particularly the fact that he had been represented as a friend to agriculture and an enemy to commerce, "the only means of disposing of its products."[413] The true position of Jefferson on this matter has already been pointed out in a preceding chapter; but the fact that the letter was written the very day he was notified of his election is proof enough that he already intended to conciliate both the agricultural and the commercial interests of the country. To the smoothing over of old differences of opinion he bent all his efforts during the three weeks that separated him from his inauguration. Bayard having refused his appointment to France, he approached at once Robert R. Livingston, intending to give the nomination to the Senate at the first opportunity. At the same time he repeated that the great body of the Federalist troops was discouraged and truly repentant, or disposed to come back into the fold. Those who were so inclined should be received with open arms for "If we can once more get social intercourse restored to its pristine harmony, I shall believe we have not lived in vain; and that it may, by rallying them to true Republican principles, which few of them had thrown off, I sanguinely hope."[414]

He resigned from the Chair of the Senate on the twenty-eighth, and made the necessary preparations for the inauguration. The ceremonies were to be very simple but dignified. John Marshall, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, was asked by Jefferson himself to administer the oath, and on March 4, 1801, the new President was inaugurated, while John Adams, who had refused to welcome his successor, was starting on his way to New England.

BOOK FIVE

CHAPTER I

"ALL REPUBLICANS, ALL FEDERALISTS"

The battle over, Jefferson's first and only desire seems to have been to bring about a reunion of the former political opponents. He had hardly been elected when he declared that he was not the choice of one party, but that the analysis of the last ballot showed clearly that "the former federalists have found themselves aggregated with us and that they are in a state of mind to be aggregated with us."[415]

And this, much to the surprise and disappointment of the militants who had fought the hard battle with him and for him, was the keynote of his inaugural speech. Throwing overboard his former defense of the French Revolution, he did not hesitate to attribute the political storm which the ship had just weathered to the baneful influence of European disturbances:

Then came the final and definitive formula: "We are all republicans—we are all federalists."

In more than one sense this was the most characteristic and the most masterly of Jefferson's political utterances. The battle of Capitol Hill was ended, the last streamers of smoke had floated away and America had found herself: "a rising nation, spread over a wide and fruitful land, traversing all the seas with the rich productions of her industry, engaged in commerce with nations who feel power and forget right, advancing rapidly to destinies beyond the reach of mortal eyes."

This was not written simply for effect and for the public eye. To Monroe, Jefferson had declared that the policy of the new administration would not be a policy of reprisals. The victory had been won partly through the repentance of former Federalists who had seen their error, and during the awful suspense of the week of the eleventh to the seventeenth of February, had feared that the country would become a prey to anarchy. These he welcomed back into the fold; the leaders, of course, were irreconcilable, but the majority were to be forgiven, and few removals from office were to be made on the ground of political divergences of opinion. "Some, I know, must be made. They must be as few as possible, done gradually, and bottomed on some malversation or inherent disqualification."[416]

Of the thousands of Federal officers in the United States, the President estimated that not twenty would have to be removed, while in two or three instances, officers removed by Mr. Adams for refusing to sign addresses were to be restored. Jefferson realized that by so acting and "stopping thus short in the career of removal" he would give offense to many of his friends, and he added with some melancholy: "That torrent has been pressing me heavily, and will require all my force to bear up against; but my maxim is "fiat justitia, ruat cælum."[417]

All this sounds perfectly sincere and true. Even the most superficial consideration of Jefferson's life would convince any one that he was not a man of vindictive character. By nature a pacifier and a harmonizer, nothing would have been farther from his program than to revive the old fires and to prolong party strifes. But if it takes only one to declare war, it takes two to make peace, and the defeated party was in no peaceful mood. Hamilton was removed from the scene, and the form of government was apparently definitively settled by the election of Jefferson, but the Federalists had not given up every hope; they were still strongly intrenched and the battle went on during all of Jefferson's administration. It was not so spectacular as the fight with Hamilton, for the chief protagonist, John Marshall, lacked the dramatic qualities of the former leader of the Federalists; but it was no less momentous and no less important for the destinies of the United States.

When it came to actual removals, however, difficulties arose immediately. Whether in all cases Jefferson was rightly advised or inspired is open to question. The wisdom of appointing Samuel Bishop, a man of "sound understanding, pure integrity and unstained character", as collector of New Haven may be doubted, and there was something undeniably worth considering in the protest of New Haven merchants, that a man seventy-seven years old was unfit for such an office. The incident in itself was paltry, but the letter written by the President in answer to the protest put once again into light that curious mixture of theoretical idealism and practical political sense so remarkable in Jefferson. After all, the Federalists had begun with filling every office with their partisans and it was necessary to reëstablish a just balance, even if some individuals had to suffer. If the rights of the minority could not be ignored, the majority had its rights also and could not submit to the monopoly claimed by the Federalists: "Total exclusions," concluded the President, "call for prompt corrections. I shall correct the procedure; but that done, return with joy to that state of things, when only questions concerning a candidate shall be, is he honest? Is he capable? Is he faithful to the Constitution?"[418] In other words, Jefferson was not ready to proclaim the principle so frankly avowed later "to the victor belong the spoils." His principle was and remained absolutely different. But he considered that he was confronted by a situation which had to be remedied without any delay, and in his behavior he reminds one in some way of the French publicist who, although theoretically opposed to the death penalty, declared, "Que messieurs les assassins commencent!" Certainly this is not the pure and exalted morality of the political philosopher, but neither is it the cynical attitude of the political "boss", and one may wonder how many men who have occupied high offices would stand better than Jefferson in this respect if documents were available and could be subjected to the same scrutiny.

The fact remains, however, that during the battle from which he had come out victorious, Jefferson had to employ and sometimes associate with men whose character was not absolutely spotless. The presence of Aaron Burr in the government was already a thorn in his side. It was also particularly unfortunate that he had given aid and assistance to Callender, whose scurrilous attacks against Adams went far beyond a legitimate discussion of public utterances and actions of a man at the head of the government. Callender had been sentenced under the Sedition Act to a term in jail and liberated by Jefferson with all the other victims of the act when he took office. It was even more unfortunate that the pamphlet of Callender, "The Prospect Before Us", was reprinted under a modified title as the "History of the Administration of John Adams" more than a year after the new administration had taken hold of things. It was also regrettable that the son of John Adams should have been removed from office after the election. Soon after the death of Jefferson's younger daughter, Mrs. Adams, who had befriended the little girl when she arrived in London all alone in 1787, wrote to the bereaved father to express her sympathy. Jefferson took the opportunity to reassert his personal friendship for John Adams. He could not help mentioning, however, that one act of Adams' administration he had to consider as personally unkind, his last appointment to office of Jefferson's most ardent political enemies.[419] This letter called for an answer, and Mrs. Adams was not a woman to miss an opportunity to express her husband's views and her own on the removal of Federal judges and particularly of John Quincy. Thus Jefferson was led to write a final letter in which he expressed more clearly than he had done anywhere else his opinion on the judiciary and on the place it should occupy in the general scheme of government. To understand this letter fully it is necessary to go back to the beginnings of Jefferson's administration.

The original draft of Jefferson's message to Congress, December 8, 1801, contained a paragraph which, after more mature reflection, the President decided to omit "as capable of being chicaned, and furnishing something to the opposition to make a handle of."[420] In it Jefferson held the theory that the three powers existing in any government had been distributed among three equal authorities, constituting each a check on one or both the others. The President asserted that each of these three branches of the government had a right "to decide on the validity of an act according to its own judgment and uncontrouled by the opinions of any other department." According to this theory, even if opposition developed among different departments, no permanent ill could ensue, since at the next election the people were at liberty to refuse to reëlect those whose interpretation seemed erroneous.

Jefferson's disapproval of the Sedition Act had been known for a long time; he had a right to assume that his election meant that the people approved of his position and to make this declaration:

In its final form the message was far less provocative. It simply contained the statement that "the judiciary system ... and especially that portion of it recently enacted, will, of course, present itself to the contemplation of Congress." But the Federalists and particularly Marshall were not placated by this apparent moderation; they knew that the assault against the judiciary was about to begin. The debate between Federalists and Republicans had already been transferred to another ground.

No better account of it can be found than the chapters written on the subject by Albert J. Beveridge in his "Life of Marshall." It must be remembered, however, that Beveridge's account was necessarily colored by his own political views, as were the views of most historians of the subject.[421] One of the first episodes of the battle was the repeal of the Judiciary Act passed in 1801 by the Federalists, in order to reorganize the Supreme Court and to increase the number of Federal judges. This was immediately followed by the impeachment of Judge Pickering, the deposition of Judge Addison by the Senate of Pennsylvania, and the famous decision given by Marshall on "Marbury versus Madison." These incidents were of unequal importance and significance. It was recognized by Pickering's friends and family that the judge was half-demented and for several years had been unable to fulfill his duties. But since the Act of 1801 had been repealed, no one seemed to have authority at the time to remove the judge from office. The Pickering case simply provided the Republicans with an opportunity to test out their favorite contention, that impeachment was unrestricted and could be enforced against any officer of the government deemed undesirable by two thirds of the Senate.

Of far greater importance was the decision of Marshall in "Marbury versus Madison." The senior member of the Supreme Court formulated on this occasion a doctrine on the powers of the Court which, although never written in the Constitution, was to obtain final recognition and which to this day had remained one of the many unwritten laws of the land. Another most curious situation this, so disconcerting to historians and observers trained in the principles of Roman law, but often recurring in American politics and administrative life. The case itself was of no importance. Marbury was one of the "midnight judges" whose commission, signed by Adams, had been withheld by Madison, on the theory that the powers of the former President to make appointments had really expired, not on the third of March, 1801, at midnight, but on the day his successor was elected. It was maintained by the administration that the commission not having been delivered Marbury had no right to take office and to sit on the bench. Marbury had appealed to the Supreme Court, but the sessions of the Court being suspended for fourteen months by Congress, Marshall had at first no opportunity to declare himself publicly on the matter.

When he finally passed on the case, the Chief Justice saw at once that his hour had come, and gave his definition of the powers of the Court in its relation to the executive and the legislative. Curiously enough, as Beveridge remarked, the matter had never before come up and would have remained undecided for a long time, if this particular juncture had not made it a question of paramount importance for the destinies of the country. Briefly summed up, the theory of Marshall, shorn of its legal phraseology, was this: The happiness of the American people rested on certain principles embodied in the Constitution. These principles could not be altered by legislation; if, however, the legislative passed a law evidently contrary to the Constitution, there must be for the individual some recourse, some means of asserting his rights. In cases where Congress adopts laws contrary to the Constitution, these laws must be void. On this principle Jefferson and Marshall were in complete agreement. But from that point on they differed widely. The next question was to determine where does the power rest to declare a law unconstitutional? With the Executive and even with the States, Jefferson had first declared in his draft of 1801. With the Supreme Court, answered Marshall; for this is essentially a judicial function. Under this construction, the Constitution remains the supreme law of the land, but it is within the powers attributed by the Constitution to the judiciary, for the Supreme Court to decide on the constitutionality of an act passed by the legislature. Thus the Court is not placed above the Constitution, but its judges stand as the keepers and interpreters of the superior law of the country.

Jefferson did not engage directly in a controversy with Marshall and held his peace. But, as he was wont, he seized another opportunity to express his views on the subject, and he did it in his letter written to Mrs. Adams on September 11, 1804. In this, he maintained that "nothing in the Constitution has given the judges a right to decide for the Executive, more than to the Executive to decide for them. Both magistrates are equally independent in the sphere of action assigned to them." Judges believing a law to be constitutional have a right to pass sentences. But "the Executive believing the law to be unconstitutional were bound to remit the execution of it; because that power has been confided to them by the Constitution." What he did not say on this occasion, but repeated on many others, was that, the ultimate source of authority resting in the people, it was for the people to decide at the next election in case a conflict of interpretation should arise between any of the three branches of the government. In case of a conflict between the judiciary and the legislative, however, impeachment proceedings could be initiated and judges removed in a regular and, according to him, perfectly constitutional way.

It must be recognized here that the position taken by Jefferson was perfectly logical, far more logical than the interpretation given out by Marshall. Whether Jefferson's theory would have worked out satisfactorily is quite another matter. It is only too evident that perfectly logical constructions do not always fit the complexity and contradictions of human affairs. The system of democracy which was Jefferson's ideal at that time might have worked in the case of a New England town meeting; it would have been more difficult to apply to the government of a State. In the case of a large and growing federation of States, it would have injected into presidential and congressional elections constant elements of discord and bitterness. Thus the cost of liberty would not have been eternal vigilance, but eternal strife and political dissensions.

It may even be doubted whether Jefferson would ever have entertained such an extreme theory if at that time he had not been moved by immediate considerations. He had come to see in the judiciary, as it was constituted after the appointments made by Adams, an institution endangering the very life of the Republic. As for Marshall, who had hurled a challenge at the executive and the legislative branches of the government, it had to be ascertained whether some means could not be found to remove him from office.

That such was the ultimate intent of the Republican leaders was understood generally when proceedings were started to impeach Judge Chase of the Supreme Court. As in the case of Pickering, the Republicans had carefully selected the card they intended to play. Was he not the very man who had sentenced Fries to the gallows and Callender to jail, who had been relentless in his application of the Sedition Act and in the prosecution of Republicans? He had finally, and this was the immediate ground for his impeachment, bitterly criticized from the bench the repeal of the Federal judiciary act, and predicted that the country would be enslaved by mob tyranny and that soon "they would all establish the worst kind of government known to man."

The impeachment proceedings took place in the Senate room elaborately decorated for the occasion with a display of crimson, green, and blue cloth draping the rows of benches and the sections reserved for the heads of departments, foreign ministers, members of the House, and the general public. The Senate convened to hear the case on February 4, 1805, and for almost a month all other business was practically suspended. But it was far more than the fate of a single judge which was going to be decided. On the decision of the Senate hung not only the future of the Constitution but probably the fate of the Union. For New England had already on several occasions threatened secession; the North resented what was already termed "Virginia tyranny", and it was to be feared that these feelings of disaffection might be strengthened. It was also the most exciting ceremony the new capital had yet witnessed, and the formalities of the proceedings, the effort to clothe them with dignity and solemnity, presented a strange contrast with the uncouth appearance of the city itself, with its ramshackle boarding houses, its muddy streets, and surrounding wilderness.

The debates provided a rare occasion for an extraordinary display of American eloquence. This is not one of the least surprises to a student of American civilization, to discover the taste of the people as a whole for oratory and the remarkable gift of American orators for long speeches, even in the early days. Scarcely less surprising was the capacity of American audiences to listen patiently for long hours and with apparent interest to discussions and debates. It seems as if the gift attributed by Cæsar to the Gauls of old had been transferred to the new continent and to a people racially much different. Oratory was to a certain extent a new art, for few occasions were offered in the colonial times for long political speeches; but even in the early days of the Revolution, born orators appeared and since that time have filled the legislative halls with an inexhaustible flow of eloquence. This is said without the least irony and merely as another illustration of the danger of generalizing when discussing national characteristics. To the point these speeches were, perhaps, but they were not short by any means. A careful study of the development of the American school of oratory would certainly repay a specialist in the history of public speaking.

During the session, the oratorical stars were Luther Martin of Maryland, who spoke for Chase, and John Randolph, who summed up the case for the administration. It appeared, however, when the final vote was taken, that Jefferson had not been able to keep his party in hand. There were thirty-four senators, of whom nine were Federalists and twenty-five Republicans. Twenty-two votes were necessary to convict, but the administration was able to muster only sixteen for impeachment, and on one count Chase was proved unanimously "not guilty." For the time being John Marshall was safe, and the acquittal of Chase was undoubtedly a personal defeat for the President.

This wound to his amour-propre was compensated by the success of the last election. Jefferson had been reëlected without opposition; the strength of the Federalists as a separate party had dwindled to the vanishing point, and only three days separated him from the beginning of his second term. But everybody understood that the matter at issue had not been settled and that another test would have to be made. The very day Chase was acquitted, John Randolph introduced a resolution proposing an amendment to the Constitution, to the effect that "The judges of the Supreme Court, and of all other courts of the United States, shall be removed by the President on the joint addresses of both Houses of Congress requesting the same, anything in the Constitution of the United States notwithstanding." This was referred to a committee and, as Congress had only three more days to sit, it was decided by sixty-eight votes against thirty-three that the motion would be made the order of the day for the first Monday in December.

The assault against the judiciary constitutes one of the most striking episodes of Jefferson's first administration and has received its due share at the hands of American historians. It must not be forgotten, however, that even in other respects the President had no easy sailing. The friend of Priestley, Thomas Cooper, Volney, and Thomas Paine continued to be represented in the press and in the public as the champion of infidelity. The President could not engage in any controversy in order to justify himself but, according to his favorite methods, he encouraged his friends to hit back, and he became more and more convinced that the intrusion of the churches into politics was one of the worst evils that could befall any country. He soon came to the conclusion that many members of the clergy were unworthy to speak in the name of the great teacher; that the Christian doctrine had degenerated in their hands, and that no true religion could long exist when it was intrusted to the priests. Hence the many expressions of his preference for the Quakers so often found in his correspondence.

The indignation of the Federalists and the clergy reached a paroxysm when it was discovered that the President had not only invited Paine to come to America but had even promised him passage on a public vessel. For Paine was no longer remembered as the eloquent political writer who in prophetic accents had celebrated the uniqueness of America's position in the world. He was the detestable atheist who had participated in the bloody excesses of the French Revolution—a wretch unworthy of being thus honored by a Christian nation. Once more religion was injected into politics. The President was bitterly reproved by the New England clergy for having refused to proclaim days of fasting and thanksgivings as his predecessors had done, and Jefferson, who would have preferred to let sleeping dogs lie, had to come out and explain his position on an alliance between "Church and State, under the authority of the Constitution."[423]

That Jefferson, who was so restive under public criticism, suffered even more than he dared admit appears in many passages of his letters. "Every word of mine," he wrote to Mazzei, "which they can get hold of, however innocent, however orthodox, is twisted, tormented, perverted, and like the words of holy writ, are made to mean everything but what they were intended to mean."[424] The whole subject is not an easy one to treat and cannot be discussed here; but it would be very difficult to reach a fair estimate of internal politics during Jefferson's first administration if that element of hostility were entirely left out. We can only express the hope that some day it will receive due attention. An investigation of the New England papers and Church publications of the time would undoubtedly bring to light many hidden currents of hostility.

But, in spite of these difficulties, the new administration went ahead with a program of political reforms of great moment. No tradition for the respective duties of the Cabinet members and their relation to the President had yet been established. Under Washington's administration letters sent to the President were referred by him to the departments concerned to be acted upon, and letters sent to the department heads were submitted to the President with a proposed answer. Generally they were sent back with his approbation; sometimes an alteration was suggested, and when the subject was particularly important it was reserved for a conference. In this manner Washington always was in accurate possession of all facts and proceedings in all parts of the Union. This procedure had been impossible to follow during Adams' administration, owing to the long and habitual absences of the President from the seat of government, and little by little the department heads had assumed more and more responsibility, with the result that the government had four different heads "drawing sometimes in different directions." This usurpation of powers and this maladministration Jefferson meant to end. In a very courteous, but very firm manner, he reminded the members of the Cabinet that the President had been intrusted with a certain set of duties incumbent upon him and for which he was responsible before the public, and that he considered it necessary to return to the procedure followed by Washington. What had been an informal custom was to become a regular and official routine; it entailed an enormous expenditure of time on the part of the President, a great flexibility of mind, and a necessity of adapting himself to many different problems in the course of one day. To a large extent, Jefferson is responsible for placing on the shoulders of the chief executive the enormous load under which several Presidents have broken down.

This was not the most conspicuous reform introduced by Jefferson in the plan of government, yet it was one of the most important. Of no less consequence was the reform of the financial system of the United States. The privilege of the bank had still several years to run, but many other modifications could be introduced at once. Hamilton had multiplied the number of internal taxes and at the same time the number of Federal office-holders in order to strengthen his hold on the government. These had to be done away with, as well as the abominable excise taxes which had created so many difficulties under the preceding administrations. They were at best a temporary expedient, to be resorted to only in case of war, and the Federal Government had to make an effort to return to the more orthodox system of bringing its expenditures within the limits of revenue raised by taxes on importations. This was perfectly consistent with Jefferson's theory of the State rights and the general functions of the Federal Government. To substitute economy for taxation, to reduce the debt as rapidly as possible, to keep down the expenses for the navy and the army,—such was the policy of the new administration, and in his second annual message on December 15, 1802, Jefferson could point out with pleasure that "in the department of finance the receipts of external duties for the last twelve months have exceeded those of any former year." To care for the Louisiana Purchase, Gallatin recommended a loan of $11,250,000, running for fifteen years and carrying a six per cent. interest. But in his fourth message the President declared that "the state of our finances continues to fulfill our expectations. Eleven million and a half dollars received in the course of the year ending on the thirtieth of September last, have enabled us, after meeting all the ordinary expenses of the year, to pay upward of $3,600,000 of the public debt, exclusive of interest." Thus it was amply demonstrated that the financial structure of the Federal Government had not been endangered by a departure from Hamilton's policies. It is worth noting also that Jefferson's party, at that time, stood for a strong tariff, while the last Federalists advocated internal taxes. In that respect, at least, it is hardly possible to say that the present-day Democrats continue the Jeffersonian policies.

This system, however, presented many advantages in the eyes of Jefferson. In his first message he had made one of those many declarations, so often found in official documents of the sort, by which men in public life are wont to define their policies in almost sibylline terms, so as to express their own aspirations and satisfy the members of their party without arousing undue antagonism in an influential minority. "Agriculture," he had written, "manufactures, commerce, and navigation, the four pillars of our prosperity, are the most thriving when left most free to individual enterprise." But at once he had added: "Protection from casual embarrassments, however, may sometimes be reasonably interposed. If in the course of your observations or inquiries they should appear to need any aid within the limits of our constitutional powers, your sense of their importance is a sufficient assurance they will occupy your attention." This second statement could only mean one thing, that the President was not ready to depart entirely and radically from Hamilton's policy of giving encouragement to manufactures. But there is no doubt that in his opinion America was to remain essentially an agricultural nation. He still had before him the vision of a large country in which every citizen would live on his own land and from this land derive most of his subsistence instead of congregating in large cities. It was a Vergilian vision magnified a million times; it was based also to a large extent on his own experience at Monticello where he had proved that it was possible to manufacture tools, to bake bricks, to make furniture, and to maintain a comparatively large family on the products of the soil. He was not ready to antagonize openly those who dreamed of another future for America, and he did not believe that he had a right to do so, since his duty was to carry out the wishes of the people.

Jefferson was not the man to take the lead in these matters, but he was not the man either to oppose any measure to encourage manufactures and commerce that Congress would deem proper to adopt. On this point he had not varied since the letter he had written from Paris to Hogendorp. His preference for "an agricultural condition" remained largely theoretical, sentimental, and personal. He may be considered as the leader of an agrarian party, he may have felt in sympathy with the French Physiocrats, but when it came to practice he acted very much like Du Pont de Nemours himself who, in spite of his theories, spent all he had to establish a tannery and a powder mill near Wilmington, and at the end of his days proposed to the American Government a "Plan for the Encouragement of Manufactures in America." If it is true that during Jefferson's administration industrial and agricultural interests clashed for the first time in America, I fail to see that the President made any effort to favor agriculture at the expense of industry.

When the end of his first term approached, Jefferson did not need any coercion to remain in the saddle for another period of four years. It had already been decided that Aaron Burr would not and could not again be a candidate, and George Clinton was chosen as running mate of Jefferson. Never in the history of the United States was an election so little contested: Jefferson obtained one hundred sixty-two electoral votes while his opponent could only muster fourteen. The Republican Party had really become the National party and the President had been able to achieve political unity.

CHAPTER II

PROTECTIVE IMPERIALISM AND TERRITORIAL EXPANSION

The famous Inaugural Message of Jefferson gave more space to questions of domestic politics than to foreign problems, but it contained a clear definition of America's attitude towards Europe—a short and terse statement in which the President reiterated the principles which had guided him when Secretary of State. These were the same principles that underlay the foreign policies of the United States from the early days of the Revolution. They had already appeared in the Plan of Treaties drawn up by Adams in 1776; they had been solemnly proclaimed by Washington in his Farewell Address; and they still direct to a large extent America's attitude in her dealings with foreign nations on the American continent as well as abroad.

These principles were presented by Jefferson as being essentially the result of natural conditions for which the Americans themselves were not responsible: "Kindly separated by nature and a wide ocean from the exterminating havoc of one quarter of the globe; too high-minded to endure the degradations of others; possessing a chosen country, with room enough for our descendants to the hundredth and thousandth generation", there was only one course for the American people to follow: "commerce and honest friendship with all nations—entangling alliances with none."

Thanks to the Republican victory, America no longer had to pay any attention to the political convulsions which were tearing the vitals of the Old World. The American experiment no longer depended on the issue of the French Revolution. The Argosy had weathered the storm; America had become the sole arbiter of her destinies, she had become, Jefferson proclaimed, "a standing monument and example for the aim and imitation of the people of other countries; and I join with you in the hope and belief that they will see, from our example, that a free government is of all others the most energetic; that the inquiry which has been excited among the mass of mankind by our revolution and its consequences, will ameliorate the condition of man over a great portion of the globe."

Such a declaration should not be mistaken for a manifestation of a missionary spirit by which Jefferson was never moved and which was absolutely abhorrent to his nature. America was not to engage in any crusade. She was not to preach a new gospel of liberty to the oppressed peoples of the earth. She had proclaimed no Déclaration européenne des droits de l'homme et du citoyen, as the French Revolution had ambitiously done. She was not sending overseas to the shackled nations a call to throw off the yoke and liberate themselves. Such declarations would have seemed to Jefferson idle and dangerous. Every people had to work out their own salvation; any attempt by America to help and encourage them would only embroil her in difficulties which would retard her own development. She could best serve the cause of humanity by standing aloof and simply existing as an example which others, if they had eyes to see, could not fail sooner or later to imitate. It was essentially the doctrine which has been so often expounded by the non-interventionists every time America has been invited to coöperate with Europe.

This doctrine therefore was not the expression of a passing mood; it constituted one of the fundamental principles of Americanism and had a permanent value, because, as Montesquieu would have said, it was the result of "the nature of things", and not a deduction drawn from an a priori principle. On the other hand, it contained a new and interesting affirmation of the unquestionable superiority of the American people over all the peoples of the earth, not only morally but intellectually; and this was not forgotten either, for the "high-mindedness" of Jefferson was echoed and reflected more than a hundred years later in the "too proud to fight" of Woodrow Wilson. Taken in itself, this statement was no worse than so many statements made in political speeches; all peoples like to be told and to believe that they are a chosen people. But it must be confessed that Jefferson drew very dangerous conclusions from that uniqueness of America's position.

One of the earliest and frankest expressions of that naïve and almost unconscious imperialism appears in an unpublished letter to Doctor Mitchell. After discussing every possible subject under heaven, from frosts to mammoth bones and electricity, Jefferson concluded with this disquieting statement: "Nor is it in physics alone that we shall be found to differ from the other hemisphere. I strongly suspect that our geographical peculiarities may call for a different code of natural law to govern relations with other nations from that which the conditions of Europe have given rise to there."[425]

This idea was reiterated in a letter written to Short more than a year later. In it Jefferson laid down the principle, the moral foundation of American imperialism—a curious mixture of common sense, practical idealism, and moralizing not to be found perhaps in any other people, but more permanently American than typically Jeffersonian. To any sort of arrangement with Europe he was irreducibly opposed: "We have a perfect horror at everything connecting ourselves with the politics of Europe." In order to protect America from the wiles of the European diplomats, the best course was "in the meantime, to wish to let every treaty we have drop off without renewal. We call in our diplomatic missions, barely keeping up those to the most important nations. There is a strong disposition in our countrymen to discontinue even these; and very possibly it may be done." Jefferson admitted that the neutral rights of the United States might suffer; they would undoubtedly suffer temporarily, and one had to accept this as an unavoidable evil. But it would be only temporary: "We feel ourselves strong and daily growing stronger ... If we can delay but for a few years the necessity of vindicating the laws of nature on the ocean, we shall be the more sure of doing it with effect. The day is within my time as well as yours; when we may say by what laws other nations shall treat us on the sea. And we will say it."[426]

Nor was this imperialism purely theoretical. It was susceptible of immediate applications and it manifested itself openly in a letter written to James Monroe a few weeks later. The people of Virginia were most anxious to get rid of a band of malefactors guilty of insurgency, conspiracy, and rebellion. Had they been whites, the solution would have been easy enough, but it happened that they were colored people and they could not reasonably be sent to the northern boundary, or be provided with land in the Western Territory. Could these undesirables be pushed into the Spanish sphere of influence? To this solution Jefferson was unequivocally opposed and for reasons worth considering: "However our present situation may restrain us within our own limits," he wrote to Monroe, "it is impossible not to look forward to distant times, when our rapid multiplication will expand itself beyond those limits, and cover the whole northern, if not the southern continent, with a people speaking the same language, governed in similar forms, and by similar laws; nor can we contemplate either blot or mixture on that surface."[427]

Truly enough, Jefferson said at the beginning of the letter that publication of his views might have an ill effect in more than one quarter. I shall not even advance the theory that Jefferson's foreign policies constituted a systematic effort to put such a program into effect. But that such aspirations and ambitions existed in his mind and influenced him to a certain extent cannot be denied, and they should not be overlooked in any discussion of his attitude during the negotiations that led to the purchase of Louisiana.

Many of Jefferson's contemporaries, and not a few American historians, have harshly criticized him for buying Louisiana from France, when no clause in the Constitution authorized the acquisition of new territory. On the French side, not only historians but even Bonaparte's brother considered that the cession, without the previous consultation of the Chambers, of a colony recently recovered by France was an act arbitrary and unconstitutional. Both principals have been condemned and praised by posterity, but there is no doubt that the full responsibility for the transaction rests not upon the peoples of France and America, but on the President of the United States and the Premier Consul. It was remarkable that two great minds, so divergent in their views and principles, should meet on a common ground instead of clashing. On neither side was it a triumph of idealism, but of that enlightened self-interest which, according to Jefferson, directs the actions of men as well as of nations.

Nor were they entirely unsupported by the public opinion of their respective countries. I have already indicated in a preceding book[428] that a friendly conspiracy seems to have been organized in France in order to induce the First Consul, and chiefly Talleyrand, to acquiesce in the cession. At any rate, it appears from several letters of Volney that the Ideologists were anxious to avoid an open conflict with the United States and, at the same time, to promote a measure which, in their opinion, would insure the growth and prosperity of the Republican Promised Land. Volney, himself one of the "voyageurs" of the Directory, had made a trip to the West and come back fully convinced that France could never hope to develop an empire in the Mississippi Valley. The few scattered French colonists who remained isolated in the Middle West were condemned to be gradually absorbed by the influx of American pioneers and to disappear before the rising flood of American colonization. The question of the lower valley of the Mississippi was different, to be sure, but if the United States were thwarted in their development, if they were hemmed in on every side by powerful neighbors, the theory of Montesquieu that only small nations could adopt the republican system of government would seem vindicated. It was not only the fate of the United States which was at stake, but the fate of the doctrine of popular government, and it was the duty of all liberals to bend every effort to make more secure the prosperity of America.

On the other hand, as we have already seen in previous chapters, while Jefferson was satisfied to leave Louisiana in the hands of Spain, at least temporarily, he had always watched for a favorable opportunity to unite the Spanish colonies to the main body of the United States. It was not so much desire of expansion and imperialism as the conviction that colonies were only pawns in the game of European politics; that they could change hands at any time according to the fortunes of war; that there existed consequently a permanent danger of seeing France recover some day her former colonies or, still worse, to have them fall into the hands of the British. With England, or possibly France, on the northern border, in the Floridas, on the Gulf, and in the valley of the Mississippi, the old dream of European domination of the North American continent would revive. The United States would be placed in the same position as the old colonies with reference to France. A clash could not be avoided; the issue would have to be fought out, until one of the adversaries should remain in full and undisputed possession of the whole northern part of the New World.

Although the Treaty of San Ildefonso, by which France was to recover and occupy Louisiana at the first favorable opportunity, was intended to remain secret, rumors that some deal had been concluded greatly disturbed the American Government. As early as March, 1801, Rufus King had been informed in London that such a cession was contemplated and learned that General Collot intended to leave for Louisiana with a considerable number of followers. On June 1, King called his Government's attention to the fact that the cession of Louisiana "might enable France to extend her influence, and perhaps her dominion, up the Mississippi; and through the Lakes even up to Canada." The information caused great concern to the British Government, and Lord Hawkesbury had acquainted the American minister with the rumors. At that time, King, who was evidently familiar with the views of Jefferson on the matter, had answered by quoting Montesquieu that "it is happy for trading powers, that God has permitted Turks and Spaniards to be in the world, since of all nations they are the most proper to possess a great empire with insignificance." The purport of this quotation being, he wrote, that, "we are contented that the Floridas remain in the hands of Spain, but should not be willing to see them transferred, except to ourselves." It was a double-edged answer, since it set at nil any hope the British might have had of occupying Louisiana and the Floridas; and at the same time it constituted a very accurate statement of the position maintained by Jefferson when Secretary of State in all his dealings pertaining to the Spanish colonies.

This policy was clearly defined in the general observations communicated by the President to Charles Pinckney, minister in Madrid (June 9, 1801) and in the instructions given to Livingston, hastening his departure for France (September 28, 1801). Jefferson did not know yet what part of the Spanish colonies was to be ceded to France and was more preoccupied with the eventuality of the cession of the Floridas. The solution preferred for the present was clearly the status quo. Should the cession have irrevocably taken place, the rights to the navigation of the Mississippi were to be safeguarded, and if possible France should be induced "to make over to the United States the Floridas, if included in the cession to her from Spain, or at least West Florida, through which several of our rivers (particularly the important river Mobile) empty themselves into the sea." Finally, if the cession had never been contemplated, Livingston was instructed to induce France "to favor experiments on the part of the United States, for obtaining from Spain the cession in view."

The die was cast; for the first time the United States took the position that the time had come for them to control the territory extending between their States and the Gulf of Mexico, and to insure the peaceful and unquestioned rights of navigation on the Mississippi. From the point of view of international law or droit des gens, Madison reiterated the doctrine of Jefferson, that it was a natural law that the States should have access to the sea; and in this particular instance he hinted at another principle—the application of which to the old territories of Europe would be far-reaching—namely that the nation possessing a certain river was entitled also to the mouth of the river. But this again was probably in his opinion one of these "natural laws" which applied to America only. At the end of November, Rufus King sent to Madison a copy of the treaty between the Prince of Parma and Lucien Bonaparte, signed at Madrid, March 31, 1801, and in December he had the opportunity of mentioning the possibility of France paying her debts by ceding Louisiana back to the United States, which only brought the curt answer that "none but spendthrifts satisfy their debts by selling their lands."

Livingston, in a letter to Rufus King, took the view that the cession would be disastrous not only to the United States but to Spain and England, since the French would not fail to contract alliance with the Indians and to renew relations with "the peasantry of Canada", rendering the possessions of Britain very precarious. He could only hope that King would do his utmost to "induce the British ministry to throw all the obstacles in their power in the way of a final settlement of this business, if it is not already too late."

The British ministry refused to take the hint. Unwelcome as the passing of Louisiana into French hands might be considered they were not disposed to endanger the success of the negotiations shortly to be begun at Amiens, and Rufus King was told that the subject would not even be mentioned by Lord Hawkesbury.[429] Evidently England never intended to draw the chestnuts out of the fire for the sole benefit of the United States, and Livingston alone was left to face the situation. The letter he wrote on his own initiative, unable as he was to consult the home government, was somewhat blunt in tone. He called attention to the fact that the arrival in Louisiana or Florida of a large body of French troops could not fail to alarm the people of the Western Territory. He conceded that no protest could be made under the sixth article of the Treaty of 1778, since it had been superseded by the agreement of September 30, 1800; but he maintained that even in the absence of a formal treaty the clause expressed a very desirable policy, that at least the United States wished to know exactly the boundaries of the territory ceded by Spain. At the same time, he discreetly added that "the government of the United States desired to be informed how far it would be practicable to make such arrangements between their respective governments as would, at the same time, aid the financial operations of France, and remove, by a strong and natural boundary, all future causes of discontent between her and the United States."

These different reports, and particularly Livingston's letter to King, of December 30, created some perturbation in the mind of Jefferson, and on March 16, Madison wrote the American minister in Paris "that too much circumspection could not be employed." The great danger was that any sort of a combination with Great Britain would have to be paid later in kind or in territory. While Madison sent recommendations to Pinckney and to Livingston, the clear wish of Jefferson was to keep out England as much as possible. It was at that time that the President decided to take a hand directly in the negotiations. At the beginning of April, 1802, Du Pont de Nemours had written Jefferson that political as well as commercial considerations made it imperative for him to go to France for a short visit. Jefferson saw at once a possibility to use Du Pont as in the past he had employed Lafayette, and asked him to come to Washington to become acquainted "with certain matters that could not be committed to paper."[430]

Very significantly he added: "I believe that the destinies of great countries depend upon it, such is the crisis now existing." As Du Pont answered that he could not possibly see the President before sailing, Jefferson decided to explain his point of view fully in a long letter and at the same time he expressed himself even more forcibly in a letter to Livingston which he asked Du Pont to read before sealing it.

The two letters complete and explain each other. First of all, Jefferson rejected as a very imperfect solution the granting free access to the sea to the territories situated on the left bank of the Mississippi. He bluntly declared that although America had a more natural and instinctive friendship for France than for any other nation, it was quite certain that the national characteristics of the two peoples were so divergent that they could not live peacefully side by side for any length of time. Even the cession by France of the Floridas and New Orleans would be only a palliative which might delay but not suppress the unavoidable conflict.[431] The only solution was for France to give up entirely the rights she had acquired under the Treaty of San Ildefonso and to return to the status quo. Any attempt by Bonaparte to send soldiers to Louisiana would be considered as a casus belli, and the President wrote significantly: "Peace and abstinence from European interference are our objects, and so will continue while the present order of things in America remains uninterrupted." If, on the other hand, France insisted upon taking possession of Louisiana, it was the declared intention of Jefferson to come to an agreement with England, then to launch an expedition against New Orleans, to occupy the territory claimed by France, so as to prevent any new European nation from setting foot on the continent. That this policy of non-colonization should apply to South America as well as to the northern continent was evidently in the mind of the President, since he declared that after the annihilation of the French fleet, two nations—America and Great Britain—would rule the sea, and the two continents would be practically "appropriated by them."

The threat was so formidable that Du Pont refused to believe that it was seriously meant. He saw at once that if such representations were made to the First Consul, even with proper diplomatic precautions, they would be looked upon by him as a challenge that could not be ignored. "Give up that country, or we shall take it", is not at all persuasive. "We will defend it", is the answer that comes naturally to any man. Furthermore, the old Physiocrat predicted that if the United States ever followed such a policy, they would lose their prestige as a democratic and peaceful nation. Jefferson would thus play into the hands of the militaristic faction which ambitioned the conquest of Mexico; if, on the contrary, Mexico were to be emancipated, it might become a dangerous neighbor for the United States. He consequently urged Jefferson to accept what he considered as a much more sensible program, namely a compromise which would insure free access to the sea to "the territories of the Cumberland, the Wabash and both banks of the Ohio." Finally he warned the President against entering into such an alliance with England, since England would never permit the United States to become a naval power of first importance. If, however, the United States insisted on having a free hand in the South, was it not possible, in view of the impending war between France and England, to permit France to recover Canada instead of Louisiana, and to tell Bonaparte: "Give us Louisiana and at the first opportunity we shall restore Canada to you"?

Even if that were refused, if nothing could remove Jefferson's objection to the establishment of a French colony on the northern continent, there was still a possibility of giving satisfaction to both parties concerned without unduly irritating the national pride of either. This was simply for America to buy from France her claim on the Southern territory. True to his training and doctrine, Du Pont had devised a commercial solution to a political problem. The question of Louisiana was to be treated as a business, with a political background to be sure, but essentially on business terms.

The answer of Jefferson has unfortunately disappeared and was probably destroyed by Du Pont; but another letter of the old Physiocrat permits us to reconstruct its contents. Jefferson contended that the United States had no money and could not afford to pay any important amount for such a purchase. To which Du Pont answered that purchasing would be infinitely more economical than going to war: